ch from starvation as from cold."

The hot soup had given me strength. I got up to go.

"Where are you going?" asked the father.

"I don't know."

"Got any friends or relations in Paris?"

"No."

"Where do you live?"

"We hadn't any home. We only got to the city yesterday."

"What are you going to do, then?"

"Play my harp and get a little money."

"In Paris? You had better return to your parents in the country. Where
do they live?"

"I haven't any parents. My master bought me from my foster parents. You
have been good to me and I thank you with all my heart and, if you like,
I'll come back here on Sunday and play my harp while you dance."

While speaking I had walked towards the door, but I had only taken a few
steps when Lise, who followed me, took my hand and pointed to my harp.

"You want me to play now?" I asked, smiling at her.

She nodded and clapped her hands.

Although I had no heart to play, I played my prettiest waltz for this
little girl. At first she listened with her big, beautiful eyes fixed on
me, then she began to keep time with her feet, and very soon was dancing
gayly round the kitchen, while her brothers and sisters watched her. Her
father was delighted. When the waltz was finished the child came and
made me a pretty curtsy. I would have played for her all day, but the
father thought she had danced enough so, instead, I sang the Neapolitan
song that Vitalis had taught me. Lise stood opposite me, moving her lips
as though repeating the words. Then, suddenly, she turned round and
threw herself into her father's arms, crying.

"That's enough music," said the father.

"Isn't she a silly?" said the brother named Benjamin, scoffingly; "first
she dances, and then she cries!"

"She's not so silly as you!" retorted the elder sister, leaning over the
little one affectionately. "She understands...."

While Lise cried on her father's knee, I again strapped my harp to my
shoulder, and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" asked the gardener. "Wouldn't you like to stay
here and work? It won't be an easy life. You'll have to get up very
early in the morning and work hard all day. But you may be sure that you
won't have to go through what you did last night. You will have a bed
and food and you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have
earned it. And, if you're a good boy, which I think you are, you will be
one of the family."

Lise turned round and, through her tears, she l