The tour was really not a very extensive one. A part of Eastern France and a part of the Rhine country was all she saw, but it took seven long months to get through with it. Were she to undertake the tour now it could be done in two weeks. They had no active agent traveling ahead to hire the halls and secure the rooms at the hotels. There were no advertising facilities, and no telegraphs. M. Urso had to do everything himself. The ceremonious calls upon the great families took a great deal of time. The subscription list and the sale of tickets could not be started till they were fairly settled in the town. Three weeks in one city was hardly enough time to prepare for one concert and during it all Camilla's practice could not be neglected for a single day. Her father was always present watching and guiding her, and, in fact keeping her steadily to her work.
To off-set all this, it cost them very little to live, and their concert expenses were light. The rent of the halls was low, and they had very few advertising bills to pay. This made it easy to make the tour profitable, and when at last they returned to Paris they found they had 5,000 francs on hand, more money than they had ever dreamed about in sleepy old Nantes. This represented Camilla's first earnings. Aunt Caroline had received part of the money to help along the little home in the Rue Lamartine and when they came back she stood ready to welcome them at the top of the six flights of stairs. The cats were all there on the red roofs, but that wolf had run away in dismay. It is thought he did not appreciate music. Camilla was sure he did not like her style of bowing.
The very next day after the journey was over Camilla returned to the little room in the corner of the Conservatory and took her place by the window that looked out into the court-yard where the school bell hung in its tower, where she could see fat and rosy Massart tramp up and down the floor and scold the boys in his dear, cross old fashion. That stick flourished about as lively as ever. Her own fingers and limbs felt it once in a while when she became careless. It was not often now. She would be nine next Spring. She was getting to be a big girl and knew too much to be caught napping by Massart. The "German Tour" as she proudly called it had sharpened her wits and made her even more attentive and careful. She took up her studies in solfeggio and harmony and settled down into the routine of hard, persistent study with renewed vigor. Those boys were far ahead of her. Never mind. She would catch them presently.