at's what I
took him off to Europe with me for. I'm simply wild to be presented at
some court! Surely if I give all that up for my son's sake, you can do
as much, at least, for Anna's."

"As much? Why, what you ask of me, Madame, is to abandon all!"

Mrs. Vanderlyn became impatient. It seemed to her that he was most
unreasonable.

"I tell you that unless you do, I shall do nothing for them," she
cried petulantly. "My son has no idea of money. He's never had to earn
a dollar and he don't know how. They'll starve, if you don't yield,
and it will be your fault--entirely your fault."

Herr Kreutzer bowed his head. His heart cried out within him at the
horrible injustice of this woman, but, as he saw life, to yield was
all that he could do. To stand in Anna's light, at this late day,
when, all his life, he had, without the slightest thought of self,
made sacrifices for her, would be too illogical, too utterly absurd.
"Madame, I yield," he said. "I know too well what poverty can be--what
misery! Yes, Madame, I will go. But sometimes I shall see her."

"Absolutely no!" said Mrs. Vanderlyn. "I'll run no risk of
disagreeable comment. I have social enemies who would be too glad to
pull me down. You must give her up to-day and go out of her life
forever."

"I do not think she will consent to that. She, Madame--why, she loves
her poor old father just a little."

"Of course, of course," she grudgingly admitted, "but she'll get over
it. Ah, wait! I have it. You must find some way to make her think it's
all your fault--that it's exactly what you want--"

"What I want! To give my little Anna up?"

"Certainly. If you are going to do it, you must burn your bridges
behind you."

A big thought had been growing in Herr Kreutzer's mind. The execution
of the plan which it suggested would involve the breaking of a
resolution which had been unbroken for a score of years, but in
emergency like this--

"Very well," said he. "Madame, my bridges burn!"

"You'll do it?"

"You shall see."

With a firm step and an erectness of fine carriage which surprised
the weak, self-centred woman who was watching him, he stepped, now, to
the door, and, opening it, called loudly:

"Come, sir."

For a moment, after he had reached it, he stopped to listen, for from
the lower hallway came the sounds of altercation. He waited till a
curse or two had died away, until the thudding of a heavy body on the
boards was heard. It merely meant a fight, a