Cremona, and strode out. He was gone so long that Lynn decided to
retreat in good order. He picked up his hat and was half way out of his
chair when he heard footsteps and waited.

"Now," said the Master, "you would like to speak with me?"

He was of medium height, had keen, dark eyes, bushy brows, ruddy cheeks,
and a mass of grey hair which he occasionally shook back like a mane. He
had the typical hands of the violinist.

"Yes," answered Lynn, "I want to study with you."

"Study what?" Herr Kaufmann's tone was somewhat brusque. "Manners?"

"The violin," explained Irving, flushing.

"So? You make violins?"

"No--I want to play."

"Oh," said the other, looking at him sharply, "it is to play! Well, I
can teach you nothing."

He rose, as though to intimate that the interview was at an end, but
Lynn was not so easily turned aside. "Herr Kaufmann," he began, "I have
come hundreds of miles to study with you. We have broken up our home and
have come to live in East Lancaster for that one purpose."

"I am flattered," observed the Master, dryly. "May I ask how you have
heard of me so far away as many hundred miles?"

"Why, everybody knows of you! When I was a little child, I can remember
my mother telling me that some day I should study with the great Herr
Kaufmann. It is the dream of her life and of mine."

"A bad dream," remarked the violinist, succinctly. "May I ask your
mother's name?"

"Mrs. Irving--Margaret Irving."

"Margaret," repeated the old man in a different tone. "Margaret."

There was a long silence, then the boy began once more. "You'll take me,
won't you?"

For an instant the Master seemed on the point of yielding,
unconditionally, then he came to himself with a start. "One moment," he
said, clearing his throat. "Why did you lift up mine Cremona?"

The piercing eyes were upon him and Lynn's colour mounted to his
temples, but he met the gaze honestly. "I scarcely know why," he
answered. "I was here alone, I had been waiting a long time, and it has
always been natural for me to look at violins. I think we all do things
for which we can give no reason. I certainly had no intention of harming
it, nor of offending anybody. I am very sorry."

"Well," sighed the Master, "I should not have left it out. Strangers
seldom come here, but I, too, was to blame. Fredrika takes it to
herself; she thinks that she should have left her scrubbing and sat with
you, but of that I am not so sure. It is mine Cremo