the ship with you. I shall
be glad to pay--"

Kreutzer interrupted him with courteous shaking of the head. "I thank
you, sir," he said, with firm decision. "I cannot play first flute in
your large orchestra."

"But," said the astonished Karrosch, "I will pay--"

"I much regret," said Kreutzer, "that I cannot play first flute in
your large orchestra."

Vanderlyn, not less than Karrosch, was bewildered by this episode.
Only Anna was not in the least surprised by it, although she did not
understand it. She knew that he had many times refused alluring
offers of the sort in London, always without an explanation of his
reasons for so doing.

In the little rooms which they had found for temporary lodging place,
Herr Kreutzer sat that evening, with a well-cleaned M'riar standing by
and trying to devise some way of adding to his comfort. He had never
given much thought to the child, before, he realized; he had accepted
her as one of many facts of small importance. Now, though, he noted
the devoted gaze with which her eyes were following Anna as she moved
about the room, arranging little things.

"You love her, eh?" he asked.

"_Love_ 'er!" said M'riar, breathlessly. "My heye! Love _'er_! Ou, Hi,
sye!"

Herr Kreutzer reached an arm out with a thrill of real affection and
drew the little waif close to him. Never in her life had she been
offered a caress, before, by anyone but Anna. It took her by surprise,
and, without the slightest thought of doing so, she burst into a
flood of tears. He did not fail to understand the workings of her
soul. He drew the tiny creature to him and softly pressed a kiss upon
her perfectly clean forehead.

"You vould not want to leave her, M'riar?"

"Hi'd die, Hi would," sobbed M'riar.

Herr Kreutzer held her head back and smiled into her eyes with a good
smile which made her very happy. "Ach, liebling, do not worry."

"W'y wouldn't yer go with the toff and pl'y in ther big horchestra?"
she made bold to ask. "You'd set 'em _cryzy_, you would! _My_ 'art
turns somersets, it does, w'en you pl'ys on yer flute."

He pushed the child away, almost as if she angered him; then, seeing
her remorseful, frightened look, he took her back again and held her
close beside his knee.

"I have no love for crowds, my M'riar," he said slowly. "No; not even
in America. I have no love for crowds."

CHAPTER IV

Herr Kreutzer's little stock of money (depleted sadly by dishonest
exchange) sagged h