ncluding some of those
chapters later gathered it his book on "Christian Science." He reveled
like a boy in his new freedom and fortunes, in the lavish honors paid
him, in the rich circumstance of Viennese life. But always just beneath
the surface were unforgetable sorrows. His face in repose was always
sad. Once, after writing to Howells of his successes, he added:

"All those things might move and interest one. But how desperately
more I have been moved to-night by the thought of a little old copy
in the nursery of 'At the Back of the North Wind.' Oh, what happy
days they were when that book was read, and how Susy loved it!"

LIV.

RETURN AFTER EXILE

News came to Vienna of the death of Orion Clemens, at the age of
seventy-two. Orion had died as he had lived--a gentle dreamer, always
with a new plan. He had not been sick at all. One morning early he had
seated himself at a table, with pencil and paper, and was putting down
the details of his latest project, when death came--kindly, in the moment
of new hope. He was a generous, upright man, beloved by all who
understood him.

The Clemenses remained two winters in Vienna, spending the second at the
Hotel Krantz, where their rooms were larger and finer than at the
Metropole, and even more crowded with notabilities. Their salon acquired
the name of the "Second Embassy," and Mark Twain was, in fact, the most
representative American in the Austrian capital. It became the fashion
to consult him on every question of public interest, his comments,
whether serious or otherwise, being always worth printing. When European
disarmament was proposed, Editor William T. Stead, of the "Review of
Reviews," wrote for his opinion. He replied:

"DEAR MR. STEAD,--The Tsar is ready to disarm. I am
ready to disarm. Collect the others; it should not be
much of a task now. MARK TWAIN."

He refused offers of many sorts. He declined ten thousand dollars for a
tobacco endorsement, though he liked the tobacco well enough. He
declined ten thousand dollars a year for five years to lend his name as
editor of a humorous periodical. He declined another ten thousand for
ten lectures, and another offer for fifty lectures at the same rates
--that is, one thousand dollars per night. He could get along without
these sums, he said, and still preserve some remnants of his
self-respect.

It was May, 1899, when Clemens and his family left Vienna. They spent a