l not be for long, mother!" he said. "The master has found fault
with me more than ever to-day. He made me sing passage after passage
over and over, until some of the boys were quite angry, and said,
afterward, they wished I and my voice were with the old hermit who
houses us. Yet he never seemed pleased. He did not even say it was any
better."

"But he never gave you up, darling!" she said.

"No; he only told me to come early, alone, to-morrow, and he would give
me a lesson by myself, and perhaps I should learn better."

A twinkle of joy danced in her eyes, dimmed with so many tears.

"Silly child!" she said, fondly, "as silly as thy poor mother herself!
The master only takes trouble, and chastens and rebukes, because he
thinks it is worth while, because thou art trying and learning, and art
doing a little better day by day. He knows what thy best can be, and
will never be content with anything but thy very best."

"Is it that, mother? Is it indeed that?" said the boy, looking up with
a sudden dawning of hope.

And a sweet dawn of promise met him in his mother's eyes as she
answered:

"It is even that, my own, for thee and for me!"

CHAPTER IV.

With a glad heart, Gottlieb dressed the next morning before Lenichen
was awake, and was off to the choir-master for his lesson alone.

The new hope had inspired him, and he sang that morning to the content
even of the master, as he knew, not by his praise, but by his summoning
Ursula from the kitchen to listen, unable to resist his desire for the
sympathy of a larger audience.

Ursula was not exactly musical, nor was she demonstrative, but she
showed her satisfaction by appropriating her share of the success.

"_I_ knew what was wanting!" she said, significantly. "The birds and
the blessed angels may sing on crumbs or on the waters of Paradise; but
goose and pudding are a great help to the alleluias here below."

"The archduchess will be enraptured, and the Cistercians will be
furious!" said the choir-master, equally pleased at both prospects.

But this Gottlieb did not hear, for he had availed himself of the first
free moment to run home and tell his mother how things had improved.

After that, Gottlieb had no more trouble about the master. The old
man's severity became comprehensible and dear to him, and a loving
liberty and confidence came into his bearing toward him, which went to
the heart of the childless old man, so that dearer than the praise of