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stry and pictures and statuary of course add greatly to its general appearance, but you are quite right--the architect was an artist." "He must have been," commented Von Barwig, looking about approvingly. [Illustration: Anton learns that his newly found daughter is to be married.] "Are you looking at that cabinet, the one with the dolls in it? That's a sixteenth century piece; it belonged to Maria Theresa. Father brought it from Paris himself. It's beautiful, isn't it? I keep all my dolls in it, and some day I'll show them to you. I have a great collection; but I don't suppose you take much interest in dolls," said Helene. "Your father--he must be a fine man," said Von Barwig with a sigh. "I have heard so much of his goodness to the poor, his charity, his interest in church matters----" "Yes, he is very good," said Helene, without any enthusiasm in her voice. "There is not a hospital or a church or an asylum that doesn't number him among its patrons. Yes, he is really a very good man I suppose," repeated Helene as if she were trying to assure herself of his goodness. "He lays more corner stones and endows more orphanages than any man in America. He makes beautiful speeches; no public dinner seems to be complete without him. He knows just what to say and how to say it, and what is better than all, he knows when not to say anything!" Von Barwig nodded. "It's a great gift, that of speech," he said. "I despair of ever being able to speak this language with fluency." "But you speak English splendidly," said Helene. "My accent is terrible," said Von Barwig. "Can you not hear it?" "Your accent is beautiful to me, a rich German aristocratic roundness of expression, with nothing in the least harsh or grating to the ear. I just love to hear you talk!" declared Helene. "Really?" asked Von Barwig in surprise. "Really!" responded Helene with positive emphasis. "Ah, you spoil me, young lady; you spoil me! But come, just a few bars on the piano, that I may see where my young pupil stands." Helene looked at him and laughed mischievously. "Very well," she said, rising with evident reluctance. "I will play you 'The Maiden's Prayer'----" "Hum," said Von Barwig dubiously. "She has prayed so many times this poor maiden; it is time she should be answered. However, it is for you to decide!" Helene seated herself at the piano and played that well-known and sorely tried air through as badly
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