t two Kronen worth that
afternoon. It was the day for a music-lesson. Harmony arrived five
minutes late, panting, hat awry, and so full of the Frau Professor
Bergmeister that she could think of nothing else.

Obedient to orders she had placed the envelope containing her fifty
Kronen before the secretary as she went in. The master was out of humor.
Should he, the teacher of the great Koert, be kept waiting for a chit
of a girl--only, of course, he said "das Kindchen" or some other German
equivalent for chit--and then have her come into the sacred presence
breathless, and salute him between gasps as the Frau Professor
Bergmeister?

Being excited and now confused by her error, and being also rather
tremulous with three flights of stairs at top speed, Harmony dropped
her bow. In point of heinousness this classes with dropping one's infant
child from an upper window, or sitting on the wrong side of a carriage
when with a lady.

The master, thus thrice outraged, rose slowly and glared at Harmony.
Then with a lordly gesture to her to follow he stalked to the outer
room, and picking up the envelope with the fifty Kronen held it out to
her without a word.

Harmony's world came crashing about her ears. She stared stupidly at the
envelope in her hand, at the master's retreating back.

Two girl students waiting their turn, envelopes in hand, giggled
together. Harmony saw them and flushed scarlet. But the lady secretary
touched her arm.

"It does not matter, Fraulein. He does so sometimes. Always he is sorry.
You will come for your next lesson, not so? and all will be well. You
are his well-beloved pupil. To-night he will not eat for grief that he
has hurt you."

The ring of sincerity in the shabby secretary's voice was unmistakable.
Her tense throat relaxed. She looked across at the two students who
had laughed. They were not laughing now. Something of fellowship and
understanding passed between them in the glance. After all, it was in
the day's work--would come to one of them next, perhaps. And they had
much in common--the struggle, their faith, the everlasting loneliness,
the little white envelopes, each with its fifty Kronen.

Vaguely comforted, but with the light gone out of her day of days,
Harmony went down the three long flights and out into the brightness of
the winter day.

On the Ring she almost ran into Peter. He was striding toward her,
giving a definite impression of being bound for some particular
destina