ground again. "Such a little crime! Is there no hope for
me?"

She attempted to be dignified. "Little! I am really not accustomed----"

"Then I'm not to be forgiven?"

His tone was so humble that suddenly she had to laugh. Shooting a quick
glance at him, she said:

"That depends on how you behave in future. If you promise never to----"

Before the words were well out of her mouth, she was aware of her
stupidity; her laugh ended, and she grew redder than before. Schilsky
had laughed, too, quite frankly, and he continued to smile at the
confusion she had fallen into. It seemed a long time before he said
with emphasis: "That is the last thing in the world you should ask of
me."

Ephie drooped her head, and dug with her shoe again; she had never been
so tongue-tied as to-day, just when she felt she ought to say something
very cold and decisive. But not an idea presented itself, and meanwhile
he went on: "The punishment would be too hard. The temptation was so
great."

As she was still obstinately silent, he stooped and peeped under the
overhanging brim of her hat. "Such pretty lips!" he said, and then, as
on the former occasion, he took her by the chin and turned her face up
to his.

But she drew back angrily. "Mr. Schilskyl ... how dare you! Take your
hand away at once."

"There!--I have sinned again," he said, and folded his hands in mock
supplication. "Now I am afraid you will never forgive me.--But listen,
you have the advantage of me; you know my name. Will you not tell me
yours?"

Having retreated a full yard from him, Ephie regained some of her
native self-composure. For the first time, she found herself able to
look straight at him. "No," she said, with a touch of her usual
lightness. "I shall leave you to find it out for yourself; it will give
you something to do."

They both laughed. "At least give me your hand," he said; and when he
held it in his, he would not let her go, until, after much seeming
reluctance on her part, she had detailed to him the days and hours of
her lessons at the Conservatorium, and where he would be likely to meet
her. As before, he stood and watched her go down the street, hoping
that she would turn at the corner. But, on this day, Ephie whisked
along in a great hurry.

On after occasions, he waylaid her as she came and went, and either
stood talking to her, or walked the length of the street beside her. At
the early hour of the afternoon when Ephie had her lessons, he di