e
asked was the privilege of watching their life for the few remaining
years of his earthly existence. His pride had completely gone now, and
it caused him not one pang to feel that he had left his native land in
the flush and prime of success and was going to return an old,
broken-down failure. On the contrary, the thought of again walking the
streets of his native land, breathing the atmosphere, and hearing the
voices of his beloved countrymen so lightened his heart that his steps
were almost elastic. He kicked the snow aside with vigour, and jumped
on the street car as if he were a boy. He saluted the conductor with
such a hearty good-morning, that the man looked at him in astonishment.

"You must be feeling pretty good to call this a good morning," said
that functionary, as he collected his fare.

"Back of this awful blizzard is the beautiful sunshine," said Von
Barwig, with a smile.

"Yes, if you can see it!" replied the man, compelled to smile when he
looked into Von Barwig's beaming face. "How far are you going
downtown?" asked the conductor to prolong the conversation. The car
was empty, and Von Barwig's cheery smile encouraged him to talk.

"Fowling Green," replied Von Barwig. "I buy my ticket back to
Germany," he added lightly.

"Ah!" said the man, as if that explained everything. "You're glad to
go back, eh? Most of 'em would never have come if they knew what they
were going to get over here."

Von Barwig shrugged his shoulders and laughed a little.

"If you don't strike it right," went on the car conductor, "it's worse
here than anywhere in the world!" Von Barwig nodded. "There's no room
in America for the man who fails," he added, ringing up a fare with an
angry jerk and then relapsing into moody silence.

After many delays, owing to the packing of the snow on the car tracks,
Von Barwig arrived at the steamship office, bought his ticket, and
commenced his weary journey uptown.

"I shall see her to-day," he thought. "I shall see her. How beautiful
she will look in her white dress and her orange blossoms! He--he--will
give her to her husband. That scoundrel!" Von Barwig's heart sank.
"But she is happy, she is happy!" and this thought sustained him.

[Illustration: Helene and Beverly find love's haven.]

He had not seen her since the memorable moment in which he had placed
the hand of his beloved pupil in that of her affianced husband and
wished them joy and happiness. He had writ