"Angry with me?" the old man smiled. He knew it was only the girl's way of finding some little trivial fault with him. "Angry with me," he repeated. "And you said you were so very, very happy."
"Yes, I forgot when you came in that I ought to be very angry with you."
"Ah, you ought to be, but you are not! No, surely not," said Von Barwig gently.
"Why did you send me back my cheque? This one! Don't look so innocent; you know what I mean, sir!" and Hélène held up the cheque that Von Barwig had found awaiting him at his room the night before, and that he had carefully mailed back to her.
Von Barwig looked pained.
"Herr Von Barwig, let us have a little understanding!" said Hélène in a far more serious tone than she usually took with her music master.
"Ah, don't be angry, please don't be angry to-day! Not on such a day as this!" he urged. "To-morrow you may scold me if you like; but to-day, no, please, no!" and he looked at her so pleadingly that Hélène was forced to smile. "I wish nothing to happen that shall interfere with the happiness that has come to you," he added.
But Hélène was insistent. "It has been on my mind some time to ask you why you take such an interest in me," she said, "and now this," and she looked at the cheque.
Von Barwig was silent. What could he say? He dared not tell her the real reason.
"When I came to your studio with the little boy and asked you to teach him, you refused to accept money. Your reasons were that you were devoted to your art and that you loved to help the children of the poor. Surely I don't come under that classification, Herr Von Barwig?"