n Paar' until our fingers drop off," scolded
Friedhelm, who seemed, however, very willing to await that consummation.
We went through many of the Kinderscenen and some of the Kreissleriana,
and just as we finished a sweet little "Bittendes Kind," the twilight
grew almost into darkness, and Courvoisier laid his violin down.

"Miss Wedderburn, thank you a thousand times!"

"Oh, _bitte sehr_!" was all I could say. I wanted to say so much more;
to say that I had been made happy; my sadness dispelled, a dream half
fulfilled, but the words stuck, and had they come ever so flowingly I
could not have uttered them with Friedhelm Helfen, who knew so much,
looking at us, and Karl Linders on his best behavior in what he
considered superior company.

I do not know how it was that Karl and Friedhelm, as we all came from
the Tonhalle, walked off to the house, and Eugen and I were left to walk
alone through the soaking streets, emptied of all their revelers, and
along the dripping Koenigsallee, with its leafless chestnuts, to Sir
Peter's house. It was cold, it was wet--cheerless, dark, and dismal, and
I was very happy--very insanely so. I gave a glance once or twice at my
companion. The brightness had left his face; it was stern and worn
again, and his lips set as if with the repression of some pain.

"Herr Courvoisier, have you heard from your little boy?"

"No."

"No?"

"I do not expect to hear from him, _mein Fraeulein_. When he left me we
parted altogether."

"Oh, how dreadful!"

No answer. And we spoke no more until he said "Good-evening" to me at
the door of No. 3. As I went in I reflected that I might never meet him
thus face to face again. Was it an opportunity missed, or was it a brief
glimpse of unexpected joy?

CHAPTER XXX.

THE TRUTH.

As days went on and grew into weeks, and weeks paired off until a month
passed, and I still saw the same stricken look upon my sister's face,
my heart grew full of foreboding.

One morning the astonishing news came that Sir Peter had gone to
America.

"America!" I ejaculated (it was always I who acted the part of chorus
and did the exclamations and questioning), and I looked at Harry
Arkwright, who had communicated the news, and who held an open letter in
his hand.

"Yes, to America, to see about a railway which looks very bad. He has no
end of their bonds," said Harry, folding up the letter.

"When will he return?"

"He doesn't know. Meanwhile we are to stay w