"Oh, she does, sir," exclaimed Jasper, finding his tongue first, for
Polly was beyond speaking. "Polly works all the time she can."

"Dat is right." Herr Bauricke bobbed his head in approval, so that his
spectacles almost fell off. "I hear dat, in de music she play. No
leedle girl play like dat, who doesn't work. I will hear you sometime
at de hotel," he added abruptly, "and tell you some tings dat will help
you. To-morrow, maybe, when we go down from dis place, eh?"

"Oh, sir," exclaimed Polly, springing off from her cushion before
Jasper could stop her. "You are _so_ good--but--but--I cannot,"
then her breath gave out, and she stood quite still.

"Eh?" exclaimed Herr Bauricke, and pushing up his spectacles to stare
into her flushed and troubled face. "Perhaps I not make my meaning
clear; I mean I _geef_ you of my time and my best _ad_vice.
Now you understand--eh?" He included Jasper in his puzzled glance.

"Yes, sir," Jasper made haste to say. "We do understand; and it is so
very good of you, and Polly will accept it, sir." "For father will make
it all right with him as to the payment," he reflected easily.

"Ah, now," exclaimed Herr Bauricke, joyfully, a light beaming all over
his fat face, "dat is someting like--to-morrow, den, we--"

"But, oh, sir," Polly interrupted, "I cannot," and she twisted her
hands in distress. "I--I--didn't like you, and I said so." Then she
turned very pale, and her head drooped.

Jasper leaned over, and took her hand. "Neither did I, sir," he said.