and
close in his own, as though he would protect her, even if he were blind,
while he said aloud--

"Lead me to the physician, little friend."

Quietly and swiftly she led him, and as they went, Tiny never once
thought, What if any of the great folks who once courted and praised him
should see him led on foot through the streets by a little beggar girl,
himself looking hardly more respectable than the poorest of all beggars!

"Shall I ring the door bell?" asked she, at length coming to a sudden
halt.

"King it," said he.

But before she could do that the house door opened, and the physician
himself appeared, prepared for a drive; his carriage was already in
waiting at the door.

"Here he is," exclaimed the girl; and at the same moment a gruff voice
demanded--

"What do you want, you two, eh? Speak quick, for I'm off."

In one word Tiny told what it was he wanted.

"Blind, eh?" said the doctor, stooping and looking into the pale face of
the unhappy singer; "_born_ blind! I can do nothing for you. John!
drive the horses away from that curb-stone."

He stepped forward, as he spoke, as if about to leave the children, but
he stood still again the next minute, arrested by the sound of Tiny's
indignant voice.

"Born blind!" the singer cried; "no more than you were, sir. If you
knew how to use your eyes to any good purpose, you never would say such
a thing. Since I was ill I've been blind, but never a moment before."

"Come into the house a minute," said the doctor, who had been carefully
studying Tiny's face during the last few seconds. "Come in, and I'll
soon settle that point for you."

"For yourself, you mean," said Tiny, in an under tone, as he and the
beggar girl went in.

"What's that you carry?" said the physician. "Lay down your pack for a
moment."

But Tiny would not do that. He had taken up his harp in much the same
spirit as if it had been a cross, and he was determined never to lay it
down again until he came to his father's house. So he merely said,
"Don't call it a pack; it was a harp once, but now it's only some bits
of wood and cord."

"Broken!" said the doctor; and you would have been in doubt, if you had
heard him, as to whether he meant Tiny's harp or heart. "Broken! ah,
...;" and he seemed to get a little new light on the subject when he
looked again into Tiny's face. "Ah," he said again, and still more
thoughtfully; "now! about those eyes. You went into a great rage just