him by
the man on whom he had hung for years with dog-like fidelity, and who
avoided him to-day as one avoids an old dog that is no longer fit for
anything, he decided in the depths of his embittered soul to avenge
himself, and to do it by a means that would be quite different from
playing the piano in accordance with the rules of his own perverted
fancy.

With this decision in mind he sought sleep--at last.

XV

Jordan was now living all alone in the two attic rooms. He had asked of
his own will that he be permitted to take over the clerical work
Eleanore had been doing, and her employers had agreed to this
arrangement. He was consequently enabled to pay the rent and a little on
his board.

Daniel and Eleanore slept in the corner room in the front. Daniel moved
his piano into the living room, and did all his work there. Philippina
and Agnes remained in the room next to the kitchen.

Eleanore still made the bouquets, and still received the fancy price
for them from the unknown purchaser. But she did not attend to her
flowers in Daniel's presence, or even near him; she did this in the old
room up next to the roof.

Her father would sit by her, and look at her thoughtfully. She had the
feeling that he knew of everything that had taken place between her and
Gertrude and Daniel, but, out of infinite delicacy and modesty, and also
in grief and pain, had never said a word about it. For previous to her
marriage with Daniel, he had never been with her; he had never sat and
looked at her so attentively; he had always passed by her in great
haste, and had always shown an inclination to be alone.

She had the feeling that he knew a great deal in general about men and
things, but rarely said anything because of his superior sense of
gentleness and compassion.

Daniel lived about as he did before the wedding. He would sit at the
table until late at night and write. It often happened that Eleanore
would find him sitting there with his pen in his hand, sound asleep,
when she got up early in the morning. She always smiled when this took
place, and wakened him by kissing him on the forehead.

He wrote the notes direct from his memory, from his head, just as other
people write letters. He no longer needed an instrument to try what he
had composed or to give him an inspiration for a new theme.

Once he showed Eleanore eighteen variations of the same melody. He had
spent the whole night mak