about you--then he'll be very proud. He wanted a son-in-law of
high social standing--a gentleman.''

``We will go home, I tell you,'' replied Feuerstein firmly--his
tone was now the tone of the master. All the sentiment was out
of it and all the hardness in it.

Lena felt the change without understanding it. ``I bet you,
pa'll make you wish you'd taken my advice,'' she said sullenly.

But Feuerstein led her home. They went up stairs where Mrs.
Ganser was seated, looking stupidly at a new bonnet as she turned
it slowly round on one of her cushion-like hands. Feuerstein
went to her and kissed her on the hang of her cheek. ``Mother!''
he said in a deep, moving voice.

Mrs. Ganser blinked and looked helplessly at Lena.

``I'm married, ma,'' explained Lena.

``It's Mr. Feuerstein.'' And she gave her silly laugh.

Mrs. Ganser grew slowly pale. ``Your father,'' she at last
succeeded in articulating. ``Ach!'' She lifted her arm, thick
as a piano leg, and resumed the study of her new bonnet.

``Won't you welcome me, mother?'' asked Feuerstein, his tone and
attitude dignified appeal.

Mrs. Ganser shook her huge head vaguely. ``See Peter,'' was all