Never a word of disrespect or rebellion did Anna utter against Mr. Händel, for she believed implicitly in a child's obedience to his parents; but, being of a musical temperament herself, she entered into the boy's trouble as though she, too, were under the ban. In a certain sense she was, there being no musical instrument in the house, and often she felt stirred by the same impulse that wrought so constantly upon her nephew. "Never mind, Georg," she would say, "let Hans and Frieda have the mouth organ and the drum. Just you attend to your school, and when your father sees that you mean to study hard and carry out his wishes, he will give them back to you." But weeks dragged wearily by, and, despite Georg's diligence at school, Mr. Händel did not relent. Frieda and Peter came occasionally, but they had never been Georg's chosen comrades, and he joined their games mechanically, plainly relieved when they took their departure. He longed unceasingly for Otto, who was clever with the trumpet, and for Hans, who was now the possessor of a violin. He became restless and dissatisfied, and his mother despaired of a child who went about with such a sober face. He never gave voice to the discontent that surged in his breast, for parental authority was strict in the Händel household, and he would have been sharply punished for outspoken protest. But he did not recover from his disappointment, as his father had so reasonably expected; a slight paleness crept over his plump cheeks, his lively spirit was tinged with melancholy, and from his compressed lips was seldom heard his former ringing laugh. Every one in the house noticed the change, but all except Anna thought the mood would presently pass away if properly ignored, and no mention was made in his hearing of the subject that lay nearest his heart. The girl, however, realized that Georg was seriously unhappy, and right heartily did she try to divert him from his consuming desire. One November afternoon, as Georg sat studying before the sitting-room fire with his mother, who had fallen asleep over her knitting, his attention was attracted by a pebble being thrown against the window. Raising his eyes, he beheld his aunt beckoning to him from the garden. Down went the book and out went the boy. "What is it, Aunt Anna?" For answer, the girl caught him about the neck and whirled him madly up and down the gravelled path. "It's a secret, Georg, the best and biggest secret in the whole world. Nobody is to know it but you and me, and it is so lovely that I can't keep from spinning like a top!" "Wait! Stop! Let loose!" and the boy broke from her clasp, half-strangled by the joyful energy of her arm. "What is the secret? Hurry and tell!" The girl stood smiling and speechless, unable to find words to frame her tidings. Then glancing about to assure herself that no one was near, she bent quickly and whispered,--