He paused and looked compassionately, almost tenderly, at the face of the blind girl.
"Yes, yes," he said hurriedly, "I will come again, and give the young lady some lessons! Farewell! I will come again!"
Their looks followed us in silence more eloquent than words till we were out of sight.
"Let us make haste back," said Beethoven, "that I may write out that Sonata while I can yet remember it."
We did so, and he sat over it until long past day dawn. And this was the origin of that Moonlight Sonata with which we are all so fondly acquainted.
THE STORY OF TEMPE WICK.
