for a memorial—.” Then he went out to look for Fritz.
The registrar bent his head to the quill pen, but for a long time could not somehow resume writing.
Lotty, sadly disappointed, was putting away her blue dress into the broad, ancient cabinet with inlaid sides.
Unexpectedly, the father raised his head, and remarked aloud, without looking at anybody in particular:
“Also such an innovator and a rebel!”
Evidently he had forgotten the sentence under construction, and was still thinking of the family instructor.
CHAPTER IV.
The Sunday occurrence in the philosophical college was something very sensational for the town, something which had not been heard of for a long time. People talked freely about it and discussed what would happen to the rebellious students. They expected that the very next morning there would be a thorough investigation, and some even feared that a few of the philosophers would get their consilium abeundi (advise to leave).
But, contrary to all expectations, the affair seemed to have fallen into oblivion. The professor of theology did not appear in the college the next day; otherwise nothing happened.
“Even though they forgive them everything, the celebration of ‘majales’ will not be permitted”, was the common thought. “It is too bad!”
More than anyone else, Miss Elis was disturbed. She was thoroughly frightened when she heard of the disturbance, and reprovingly and anxiously looked at her students, for whom she cared like a mother. She also feared for the reputation of her establishment. She was quite proud of the fact that already forty-seven auditors of philosophy had lived in her rooms, and they were among the foremost, and enjoyed the best of reputation. Many of them had obtained excellent positions, many were priests, occasionally they would visit her or write to her. And now her students would be punished, and that for an overt act of rebellion?!
Monday morning, when all were gone and only Vavřena remained, she said to him:
“Mr. Vavřena, I did not sleep a wink all night. Is it true what Mr. Řezníček told me?”
“What was it?”
“That you, Mr. Vavřena, and Mr. Frýbort instigated the whole affair.”
“Oh, Miss Elis, do not fear. Mere gossip—.”
“Well. I did think that she said it for envy of my reputation. I said immediately: the others might, but, not Mr. Vavřena! With Mr. Frýbort it is always to hallelujah, but this — —!”
“There is much talk going on, but little truth in it.”
“Forty seven philosophers—,” and she already was starting to expatiate on the virtues of the students, who had boarded with her; but Vavřena, who was in a hurry, took his hat and went out. ***
Miss Elis’ house was quiet, albeit much was secretly taking place there. Zelenka lived as usual; nothing disturbed him. He was in the rear during the storm in the college, made no noise, and his conscience was clear; he was displeased only with the possibility of being questioned together with the rest. He taught as usual, studied at home as usual, and ate his alloted slices of bread and fruit porridge.
Špina’s sky was still dark and about his head circled almost incessantly thick clouds of smoke which he whiffed out of his long pipe. He had a new job. Having taken out from the wardrobe a long black frock coat, an inheritance from his deceased uncle, who used to wear the garment during his student days, Špína examined it thoughtfully. Then he turned it inside out, took it to the corridor, and almost daily beat it with a rod and brushed it. Besides his philosophical studies, he busied himself now with the honest trade of a tailor.
“A bad student who does not use up at least a penny’s worth of thread every Sunday!” his uncle, the priest used to say, when Špína was spending his vacation with him. Now he was assidously fulfilling the injunction of the deceased, trying his hand at sewing and repairing the coat. In spite of all his efforts, however, he could not restore the original lustre. Why did he exert himself, why did this young philosopher now care so much for appearances? Up to this time it seemed that he inclined to the Cynic school! This secret he nursed deeply in his heart, but Miss Elis was guessing.
Several students, among them Vavřena and Frýbort, were called to the rector, where they were questioned in regard to the outbreak. For the rector asserted that the professor of theology would not return, until a proper and complete reparation was made.
But before the affair was finally adjusted and settled, the last of the month came.
Late in the afternoon, Vavřena was leaving the registrar’s. From the door of the second parlor Mrs. Roubínek called after him: “Mr. Vavřena!”
He returned.
“I had almost forgotten. Whenever my husband is present, please, speak preferably German, or at least as usual, not “hochbömisch” (high Bohemian). He does not like to hear those new words. Er kann es nicht ausstehen. (He cannot stand that.) He thinks it is all for spite—those innovations.”
Vavřena turned red from his neck to his forehead, but only smiled, made a deep bow, and
