when he was not at home. If his violin hung uncared for, I knew that
something was wrong, and that his own condition answered to that of his
instrument. The first thing he did, when all was right again, was
carefully to put it in order.

But never during those times had I seen his treasure so badly treated
and neglected as when twenty years later, I found it again, dusty and
cracked at the back of the bookshelf. The reader will now be able to
understand how sorrowful were the reflections it aroused, and how it led
me to suspect the story of a joyless life; and I trust he will forgive
me for having taken him so far from David Holst's room--where I sat and
waited for my friend to come with the punch--into the land of my
youthful recollections. For three years we had been together almost
daily. After that David had to go out as tutor, and our ways parted, as
they so often do in this life.

And this evening we had met again.

There was a jingling in the passage, and immediately after David Holst
carefully opened the door for a servant-girl, who brought in a steaming
jug of hot water and other requisites for punch, which were most welcome
to a man who had been out several hours in the wind and rain, as I had
that very afternoon.

David found me installed on the sofa with his pipe in my mouth and his
slippers on my feet, just as he would have done in the old days, and
this I reckoned as one of my cunning artifices; for with these passes,
his pipe and slippers, I reinstated myself, without more ado, on the old
friendly footing. I felt like a general who is fortunate enough to open
the campaign by occupying a whole province.