eel like taking a lesson to-day," said Helene. "I want
to talk."

"Yes, but I--it is I who must talk, if I am to teach," faltered Von
Barwig in a low voice. He didn't want to go too far, for he had heard
that American heiresses were capricious and whimsical and that they
took likes and dislikes very suddenly. He did not want her to dislike
him, so he would humour her; but he also wanted to teach her.

"You know," she said confidentially, "I think I have a rather
discontented nature. Certain people have a horrible effect on me. I
want to run about, play, sing, read, quarrel, do anything rather than
talk to them. But you, how I like to talk to you! You have a sort of
a--what shall I call it--an all-pervading calmness, that communicates
itself to me, and soothes my ruffled feelings. I don't seem to feel in
a hurry when you're here. And when you smile, as you're smiling now, I
don't know why, but I feel just happy, and contented with myself. Do
you understand what I mean?" The girl had a far-away expression in her
eyes, as if she were day-dreaming. The old man regarded her with a
smile.

"You are trying to put me at my ease," he said finally, "and you have
succeeded, but we make no progress at our music."

"What music have you brought?" she asked.

"I cannot tell what books you will need until I hear you," he replied.

"You'd better get me Bach's studies," she said carelessly.

"Won't you play?" he asked, "and then I can judge."

"Not now," replied Helene, and then she went on again, telling him of
herself, her life, her aims and ambitions, her predilections and
prejudices. She seldom referred to her father, and mentioned her
mother only occasionally. "How I do ramble on, don't I? I seem to
have known you for years."

"You are very happy, are you not?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I suppose so!" she replied. There seemed to be a tinge of
sadness in her manner, a sort of mental reservation as to her happiness
that she did not like to confess even to herself. "Yes, I _think_ I
am," she said finally.

"Why not?" he answered. "Here all is peaceful, beautiful and
harmonious. What surroundings you have!" and he looked around,
"beautiful art objects to look at, the beautiful park at your very
window. Here all is beauty, joy, peace, without and within. Your
architect was a fine artist, or is it your own taste--all this?"

Helene nodded. "I designed this part of the house myself," she
replied. "The tape