e close of _Valentine's_
song of farewell, Thayer laughed suddenly.

"It is rather contrary to custom to be accompanied by the star of the
evening, Arlt. I suppose I ought to have hunted up somebody else; but
these other fellows make frightful work of my accompaniments. They hurry
till they get me out of breath, and then they take advantage of the
moment to drown me out. I'd like a baton, only I should beat the
accompanist with it, before I was half through a programme."

The boy's color came.

"When another man accompanies you, I shall be dead, or incapable," he
returned briefly. "I do not forget."

"Nor I. But do you also remember the last time we did this in Germany?"

"At my home? To Katarina?"

Thayer nodded.

"It is my song, you know. I am superstitious about it."

"Mr. Lorimer was there, that night."

"Oh, that reminds me, Arlt, I heard, to-night, that Lorimer was
engaged."

"Mr. Lorimer?"

"Yes, to a Miss Dane. It is only just announced, to-day. I was dining
with her cousin and he told me."

"She must be good. I hope she is also strong of character," the boy
said, with a curiously deliberate accent which seemed characteristic of
him. "He is a good man and a kind one; but he needs a steadying hand. I
shall write to the mother and Katarina."

"Will they like the news?"

"Why not? Mr. Lorimer is their friend, and they will be glad of any
happiness which shall come to him. To the mother, he is like a son, for
she is simple-hearted and knows nothing of the world. To Katarina, he is
like a god."

"But gods don't usually marry," Thayer suggested whimsically, as he took
up his coat.

However, Arlt was ready for him.

"Zeus did, and Homer tells us how he quarrelled with his wife.'"

"Lorimer never will quarrel; he is too easy-going. By the way, you met
Miss Dane at the Stanley recital. Do you remember her?"

Arlt's lips straightened thoughtfully.

"A tall lady in brown furs, who knew how to praise without making a fool
of herself?" he queried.

"That is the one. I should judge that Lorimer has been making a
systematic campaign ever since he met her, three months ago, and that,
after all, it came suddenly in the end. Dane was noncommittal; but I
think he doesn't like Lorimer any too well. Good-night, Arlt. We'll
rehearse again, Wednesday morning; meanwhile, stick to your Haydn." And
Thayer went away, out into the cold, crisp air, which greeted him now
with all its tonic force.

Arlt's simple