at a time to live. Get all the content you can out of it, and let the rest wait, like a bud, till the sun of to-morrow shows you the rose.’”

“Did she get well?” asked Lynn.

“Of course—why not?”

“His sick ones always get well,” said Fräulein Fredrika, timidly. “Mine brudder’s friend possesses great skill.”

She was laying the table for the simple [Pg 101]Sunday night tea, and Lynn said that he must go.

[Pg 101]

“No, no,” objected the Master, “you must stay.”

“It would be of a niceness,” the Fräulein assured him, very politely.

“We should enjoy it,” said the Doctor.

“You are all very kind,” returned Lynn, “but they will look for me at home, and I must not disappoint them.”

“Then,” continued the Doctor, “may I not hope that you will play for me before you go?”

“Certainly, if I have Herr Kaufmann’s permission, and if I may borrow one of his violins.”

“Of a surety.” The Master clattered down the uncarpeted stairs and returned with an instrument of his own make. Without accompaniment, Lynn played, and the Doctor nodded his enthusiastic approval. Herr Kaufmann looked out of the window and paid not the slightest attention to the performance.

“Very fine,” said the Doctor. “We have enjoyed it.”

“I am glad,” replied Lynn, modestly. [Pg 102]Then, flushed with the praise, and his own pleasure in his achievement, he turned to the Master. “How am I getting on?” he asked, anxiously. “Don’t you think I am improving?”

[Pg 102]

“Yes,” returned the Master, dryly; “by next week you will be one Paganini.”

Stung by the sarcasm, Lynn went home, and after tea the group resolved itself into its original elements. Herr Kaufmann and the Doctor sat in their respective easy-chairs, conversing with each other by means of silences, with here and there a word of 

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