s, quick
and firm like his beat. Don't you hear it, Marta?--Now he has stopped
and is talking with the miller." She leaned back on the pillows and
her eyes watched the door.

"Eh, Fraeulein! Nein, I hear nothing! What an ear you have--keen as a
doe's when the wind is towards her! At home, in the forest, where the
deer run wild and they come in the dawn to the Schneide to
graze--whischt! The crackle of a leaf and they are off flying, with
their muzzles high and their eyes wild. Na! I hear nothing but the
wheel below grinding and squeaking, and the splash of the water."

"He is coming up the stairs," cried Kaya, "Open the door for him,
Marta, and let the Kapellmeister in."

The old woman rolled up her knitting slowly: "It was just at the turn
of the chain," she grumbled, "and I have lost a stitch in the counting.
The master can come in by himself."

Kaya gave a gleeful laugh like a child, and slipped her feet to the
floor: "Oh, you cross Marta, you dear humbug!" she cried, "As if you
wouldn't let the master walk over you and never complain! Go on with
that wonderful muffler of his, and I will let him in myself. No, don't
touch me! Let me go alone and surprise him."

She steadied herself with her hand to the bed-post, then caught at the
chair: "Don't touch me--Marta! I am quite strong--now, and able
to--walk!"

A knock came on the door, and she made a little run forward and opened
it, clinging to the handle.

"Du himmlische Guete!" exclaimed the Kapellmeister, "If the bird isn't
trying its wings! Behuete, child!" He put a strong arm about her,
looking down at her sternly and shaking his head: "Do you call this
obedience?" he said grimly, "I thought I told you not to leave that
couch alone--eh?"

"Don't scold me," said Kaya, "I feel so well to-day, and there is
something leaping in my throat. Herr Kapellmeister--it is begging to
come out; let me try to sing, won't you?" She clung to his arm and her
eyes plead with him: "Don't scold me. You have put 'Siegfried' off
twice now because you had no bird. Let me try to-day."

The Kapellmeister frowned. Her form was like a lily swaying against
the trunk of an oak.

"Tschut--" he said, "Bewahre! Marta, go down and bring up her soup.
When your cheeks are red, child, and the shadows are gone from under
your eyes, then we will see."

Kaya pushed away his arm gently, and there was a firmness about her
chin as of a purpose new-born. "You have paid for m