I
always feel at home with musicians. What a busy little studio this
is," she went on, looking around. "You're quite successful, aren't
you?"

Von Barwig nodded.

"It must be very gratifying to earn a lot of money through your own
efforts; not for the mere money, but for the success. I'm glad you're
successful!" she said with such feeling that it surprised even herself.

"Why?" asked Von Barwig. "Why are you glad?"

"I don't know. I suppose--" she paused. She did not like to say it
was because she had thought he was very poor and was delighted to find
that he was not; so she said it was because of his kindness to the boy,
"and because I--I love music," she added.

"You play?" he inquired.

"A little."

"Play for me." The words came almost unbidden. It was an impulse to
which he responded because he could not help it. "Play for me," he
pleaded.

She ran her hands idly over the keys. "I ought to be angry," she
thought, "he, a mere music master, to ask me to play for him as if he
were an equal."

But the gentle expression on the old man's face as he regarded her with
a tender smile was so full of hallowed affection and respect that she
could not utter the words which came to her lips. She merely looked at
him and returned his smile with one of her own and Heaven opened for
the old man. She began to play.

"You know I play very little," she said.

"I love to hear music from your fingers," was all he could say.

Miss Stanton listened a moment.

"What music is that?" She heard the men upstairs playing. "It's very
pretty," she added. They both listened for a few moments. "It's
really beautiful! Can I get it? I'd like to know that melody."

"I make for you a piano score. It's the music they played the night
that she, that she--" his breath came quickly. "Lieber Gott! Elene;
so like Elene, so like!" he said, as he gazed at her.

Miss Stanton took off her gloves and began to play. She had hardly
struck the opening chords of a simple pianoforte piece when there came
a knock at the door. Before Von Barwig could speak a man entered. She
stopped playing and Von Barwig's heart sank as he recognised the
collector for the pianoforte house.

"I am engaged, sir. If you please, another time!"

"I've called for the piano," said the man, taking some papers out of
his pocket.

"Another time, for God's sake!" pleaded Von Barwig. "Please go on,
Miss Stanton."

"I want the piano or the money,