tand. It is simply
incomprehensible, but it amounts to this--you must not refuse this
cheque. If you do, I--I shall be compelled to--to refuse to go on with
my lessons," and Helene held out the cheque toward him. Von Barwig
looked at her; his sweet melancholy smile deepened as he slowly shook
his head.

"If you knew, if you knew, Miss Helene, how I love to teach you, you
would realise that I am over-compensated now. I am a foolish old man,
I suppose, a foolish, sentimental old man! Perhaps I do not understand
the ways of this country. Here there is no what we call _esprit de
corps_, no enthusiasm, no love of art for the sake of art, no love of
beauty for the mere sake of beauty. All is exchange and barter; so
much done, so much to be paid for. Music, bricks, painting, sculpture
and sewing machines all in one item--all to be paid for. Here for me
is fairyland! It may not be fairyland for others, but for me it is
fairyland. When I walk up the steps of this house and ring the bell, I
stand there impatiently till your Mr. Joles opens up for me heaven.
When I tell you that Mr. Joles is for me an angel, the archangel that
unlocks for me paradise, you will realise to what extent I separate
this world of love, of joy, of happiness, the world over which you
preside, from the outside world, where together come music and bricks
and human misery. Here is my heaven, my haven of rest and sweet
contentment. Shall I take money for it; shall I be paid for my
happiness? Ah, Fraeulein, Fraeulein, I dream, I dream! For sixteen
years I have not rested. Don't wake me, please don't wake me!"

Helene tore the cheque into little pieces.

"To-morrow at three, Herr Von Barwig," she said. And when he had gone
she burst into tears without in the least knowing why.

Chapter Eighteen

Whatever Andrew Cruger may have thought in his inner consciousness on
the subject of his son's engagement to Helene Stanton, he outwardly
showed no sign that he was not well pleased. He simply gave the
consent that Beverly asked of him, and accepted the new condition as
another event in the continuity of life. "Of course there can be no
formal engagement until her father returns from Europe," said he.

"Can't we get his consent by cable?" asked his son.

"I don't believe in these irregularities," said the elder Cruger, whose
diplomatic training had made him something of a stickler for formality
and precedent. "There will be time enough