oman, with nothing left but my old masters, and my china, and my 'One,
two, three, four; one, two, three, four.'"

Here a knock outside warned Natalie that she must leave, another pupil,
no doubt, having arrived; and so she bade good-bye to her friend, not
much enlightened or comforted by her counsel.

That evening Mr. Lind brought Beratinsky home with him to dinner--an
unusual circumstance, for at one time Beratinsky had wished to become a
suitor for Natalie's hand, and had had that project very promptly
knocked on the head by Lind himself. Thereafter he had come but seldom
to the house, and never without a distinct invitation. On this evening
the two men talked almost exclusively between themselves, and Natalie
was not sorry to be allowed to remain an inattentive listener. She was
thinking of other things.

When Beratinsky had gone, Lind turned to his daughter, and said to her
pleasantly,

"Well, Natalie, what have you been about to-day?"

"First of all," said she, regarding him with those fearless eyes of
hers, "I went to South Kensington Museum with Madame Potecki. Mr. Brand
was there."

His manner changed instantly.

"By appointment?" he said, sharply.

"No," she answered. "I thought he would call here, and I told Anneli
where we had gone."

Lind betrayed no expression of annoyance. He only said, coldly,

"Last night I told you it was my wish that he and you should have no
further communication with each other."

"Yes; but is it reasonable, is it fair, is it possible, papa?" she said,
forgetting for a moment her forced composure. "Do you think I can forget
why he is going away?"

"Apparently you do not know why he is going away," her father said. "He
is going to America because his duty commands that he should; because he
has work to do there of more importance than sentimental entanglements
in this country. He understands himself the necessity of his going."

The girl's cheeks burnt red, and she sat silent. How could she accuse
her own father of prevarication? But the crisis was a momentous one.

"You forget, papa," she said at length, in a low voice, "that when you
returned from abroad and got Mr. Brand's letter, you came to me. You
said that if there was any further question of a--a marriage--between
Mr. Brand and myself, you would have to send him to America. I was to be
the cause of his banishment."

"I spoke hastily--in anger," her father said, with some impatience.
"Quite apart from any su